Paya's House: The Lost Tales Part 1 - The Visitor
by GrayHuntress
Summary: Administrator Sally is feeling the pressure of her job. The Ancients are a handful, the Company is demanding, Sig'dan has been left behind to use the lab and her most recent 'boyfriend' is coming for a visit. How's Ulfr going to feel about this? Let the mayhem commence!
1. Chapter 1

**Back by popular demand - more about Sally and Paya's House. I owe a thanks to a fan for the seed that has created 'The Visitor'. Sadly, I don't remember which one of you it was. When you recognize the idea, please step forth so I can give you public credit! There are just too many messages to sift through to find the original remark that set this in motion.**

**Thanks to all who continue to read and comment on Paya's House. I so appreciate all of you! **

**Paya's House: The Lost Tales**

**Part One – The Visitor**

**Chapter One**

Rivulets of water webbed their way down the aircraft window as the commercial airliner sat twenty-third in line for take-off. The man in the aisle seat looked out the window over the passengers sitting beside him at the driving rain. His face wore the flat expression of someone whose thoughts were elsewhere and he looked without really seeing. "I hope we can take-off in this storm," a worried female voice quavered, interrupting his reverie. He glanced briefly into the duly concerned eyes of the woman sitting beside him. She was maybe in her thirties, he decided, taking in her casual attire and concluding she was not traveling for business. "Oh, I'm sure we'll be fine," he offered calmly while his innards clenched into their usual wad of nerves.

He despised flying which was quite funny when he thought about it. As a free-lance photographer his assignments carried him around the country and quite often around the globe. In fact, his frequent-flier perks were currently financing this trip. This trip! He shook his head as he thought about all the requests he'd made to come and visit her. But there were always excuses. Excuses like, 'it's still under construction,' and 'sorry, but I'm up to my ears in work," were all listened to somewhat patiently. After months of waiting, in fact there'd been two months with no phone calls at all, she'd surprised him with an invitation. More than just an invitation, she had invited him to visit and cast him the bait of exclusive work. So he had come aboard today carrying his precious camera equipment, trusting his clothes to the baggage claim. As usual, it would have taken days to drive the distance he was about to cover in a few hours, so he calmed himself with his repetitious mantra that, scientifically speaking, it was safer to fly than drive such a long ways. At any rate, he did his best to put forth a calming male presence for the benefit of his nervous feminine neighbor, even while hoping that she would not chat him up for the entire trip.

He was very curious about her new job. The offer had come to her over a year ago and he had listened to her description of it with trepidation. Not concern for what she was going to do, the offer was so classified that she could tell him little about it. No, what he didn't like was that the offer was in New Mexico and she would be moving away from him. Not that he was home all that often, but still, when he was home he always found the time to see her. She was, or had been, simply great fun to be with. They shared a love of the natural world and spent hours outside together. They had hiked through wilderness and he'd even taught her a bit about kayaking. She had patience too. As demonstrated by being perfectly still and quiet during the hours it sometimes took him to get just the right shot. It didn't hurt that she loved his work too and gushed over his wildlife and natural scenic photography. And then there was the sex. It was good…no…it was…yea…it was THAT good! There simply just wasn't enough of it what with being off on assignments all the time. _At least it's good for me, _he thought. _That's something I never felt like I had to ask her. Her enjoyment was pretty evident._ A smile smoothed his lips and his face took on that far-off look again. _So then, Sally, I finally get to see what's taken you away from me. _

He almost jolted in his seat as the captain came to life over the speaker. There was a slight Irish lilt to his voice, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain Murphy, welcoming you aboard UniWest Flight 537 to Albuquerque. We have a bit of a delay for take-off due to the weather, so I'm authorizing a beverage service while we wait. Please just relax and we'll be on our way in no time. We should clear the storm shortly after take-off and then we expect smooth air for the rest of the trip." With a slight crackle, his voice was gone and the airline attendants began pushing their metal carts with clattering china and clinking ice cubes through the narrow aisles of business class.

He appreciated that his ticket was not for cattle class in the rear, even as he savored the at-least-drinkable almost-hot coffee from the real cup. It was a small luxury, certainly, but he enjoyed it as he wondered how many more perks and service there were in first class. The attendant was just reaching a glass of cola over his lap to his now calmer traveling companion when the captain's voice again breeched the air. "Attendants! Prepare for take-off." It was announced so crisply and so matter-of-factly that it took a moment for the irony of it to sink into his brain.

Just as unexpected as the announcement, was the sight of attendants nearly running - hauling ass and carts back the way they had come, even as tray tables were still down, carrying full beverages. The man sympathetically watched the attendants scurry while the jet's body vibrated to life and then taxied into position. _Aye, you're an asshole, Captain Murphy, _the man thought to himself in his best imitation brogue as the engine's roar increased and they sped down the runway.

* * *

A knock on her office door barely caught Sally's attention as she fought her way through the figures on the screen. Startup costs were continuing to increase and the company wasn't happy about it. _They can just kiss my ass, _she thought, _they hired me to do this job and I'm going to do it in spite of their stupidity!_ "Come in, it's open" she called to the knock without looking up and flipped screen windows to view the location of Ulfr's Yautja ship. He had just been here a few days ago and was now on his way back to fetch another Ancient for the House. It would be another few days until he and his crew returned. In the meantime, she now had a new Ancient to contend with as well as the resident ones, a Yautja crew member who had been left behind without her consent, a house-keeper who'd nearly been scared out of her wits by said Yauta, a disgruntled lab staff and to top it all off – Paul was coming to visit! _Somehow this will all work out. It always does._

"Senorita DeHaven," the soft voice of Rita, the housekeeper, interrupted, making Sally look up. "I thought maybe you could use this." She brought a steaming mug of coffee towards the desk.

"Rita, you are the most thoughtful person on the planet! Thank you!" Sally beamed in genuine gratitude and accepted the gift. "You know, Sig-dan, the Yautja who scared you yesterday, really will not harm you."

"You are right, Senorita. He will not harm me because I will not go near him!"

They both laughed at the sincerely meant, yet good-natured reply. "Rita, we've been working together for awhile now. Would you mind calling me Sally? I really would prefer it."

"Oh no, Senorita. I cannot do that you see because of the others. They would think I was disrespecting you."

Sally nodded, "I understand. Maybe you can just call me Sally when we are alone together?"

Rita was thoughtful, "Perhaps, Senorita Sally. However, if I made it a habit I might mess up!" Her face seemed impish for a moment as she considered how others might take her familiarity with the boss.

"Well, I would like to get to know you better, Rita. I think you have insights about the workings of this place and I would like to hear them. Plus, you are just a really nice person and I like you."

Rita blushed a bit at the praise and then ventured in a stage whisper, "Well, I'll tell you something that nobody else here knows!"

"And what is that?" Sally leaned forward in anticipation.

"My name isn't Rita!" She chuckled, "Its Rosa. Rosa Rita. Rosa Rita Sanchez!"

"Oh? So why do you go by your middle name?"

"Well, when I came for my interview I quickly found out that the two women in front of me were both Rosas! Can you believe it? So, I didn't want to be confused with them! And as you see, I got the job!" A wide grin broke out.

"Indeed you did. And I'm so grateful for that. And for this coffee too!"

"Well, I will get back to my work then, Senorita Sally. Talk with you again, some other time."

"Yes, we will!"

Sally watched the stocky strong figure leave quietly and close the door. _I DO like her. She's so genuine and so…herself. She has confidence, too. I do believe she'd have actually wacked Sig-dan with that mop! _A laugh escaped her lips as she remembered yesterday's call to the Hospitality Room to find a bemused Sig'dan and a defensive Rita warily eyeing each other. Renewed anger began to rise in her when she recalled finding a Yautja Hunter left behind by Ulfr to use her laboratory without even asking her for permission. Quickly she quelled it. What was done was done and there were many other things begging for her attention. Not the least of them being the arrival of Paul. She pulled up his itinerary on the screen to see that his flight had been delayed. _Good, _she thought guiltily, _more time to get things done before he gets here. What in the world was I thinking of when I invited him here? I don't have time to play hostess to him. And how will he react to what we're doing here? To THEM? At least he gets to meet Sig-dan first. He's the easiest to be around. But, it's not like it was entirely my idea. The company wants an exposé on the House. They want some good publicity and nobody does a better shoot than Paul- even if this isn't his usual subject. _Absently, she again pulled up Ulfr's flight map to observe the tiny distance his ship had been estimated to travel on her screen. _I wonder what they'll think…of him?_

* * *

They were waiting for Paul in the gate lobby. Two of the Paya's House security guards, dressed in their darkish gray green attire complete with matching baseball caps that bore the Company emblem. Their guns had been left behind for the occasion and both guards felt underdressed. One held a cardboard sign with the name 'Paul Rand' scrawled across it as they both scanned the crowd emerging from the gate. A man in blue jeans and a sport-coat draped with carry-on's came towards them extending a hand. "I'm Paul Rand" he said. Neither guard returned the gesture. Instead one said, "May we see your identification, sir?"

Taken aback, Paul answered, "Uh, why, sure. Let me just put this stuff down." Carefully he placed the black bags on several lobby chairs and fished his wallet from a back pocket. "Here you go." The guard scrutinized the driver's license picture and data and then compared it to a paper that he had produced. He nodded to the other guard, "It's him." Turning to Paul he directed, "You have luggage, sir?"

Paul nodded and pointed to the luggage carousel. "Yea, over there." The guards accompanied him to the claim area and they waited along with all the other passengers who had checked baggage. Several people stared curiously at the trio, but none approached them. The carousel screeched to life and luggage began popping up from the center and falling down the metal slide to the edge. Paul waited for his worn brown canvas and leather satchel that carried a few changes of clothing and his personal items. It came careening down trapped between two huge designer suitcases which firmly sandwiched it between them as they traveled around the squealing oval. Paul waited for it to circle around to him. "Would you please hold these?" he asked one of the guards, my bag's coming 'round."

"Which one is it?" the guard questioned, "I'll get it."

"Thanks! It's the brown canvas one with leather corners squashed between two large leopard-colored suitcases."

"Tough to miss that!" the guard smiled, for the first time. He walked over to the rack as the bags moved toward him and deftly grabbed at Paul's as it traveled by. Of course, to do so meant he had to bend over and reach out and around one of the traveling square leopards. His strong hand closed on the canvas grip and he pulled it up with a grunt. Apparently, he had expected it to weigh more that it did and he wavered back and forth a bit recovering his balance while the square leopard that had been higher up on the tilted rack now slid down to hit its mate.

"Let's roll," he said pleasantly. Paul grabbed his camera gear and the three of them walked out to the awaiting HumVee. It was the same dark color as the guard's uniforms and bore a Company emblem on both front doors. Paul legged himself up into the back seat as the two guards took the front. Securing his camera gear at his side, he protectively placed his clothing bag over the top and looked out at the mountain, rock and scrub scenery during the long ride.

She had told him about her workplace. That it was way out in a secured location in the New Mexico desert and that she was an administrator. And that's about all she'd told him. The rest, she'd said, was classified. But something had apparently changed. Now he was on his way to see just what this operation was and to shoot it. In fact, it was an exclusive shoot. Someone else apparently was writing the story, but he'd be the first and only photographer to record the place and he'd get the credit for that. He just hoped it was something interesting, something novel even. Not that coming out to see Sally wasn't a nice trip of itself, but to be the first to get into a top-secret place? That might really be interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Paul's semi-dozing in the rear seat of the too-warm Hummer was interrupted by the voice of the driver, "We're at the gate, Mr. Rand." The scenery had been interesting but he'd been burning the candle at both ends lately. Slowly but surely, the road noise had lulled him from his initial interest, in watching the rocks and scrub pass by, into a half-lidded state that threatened to become a full nap. He stifled a yawn by forcing his teeth together but couldn't keep his eyes from squinting during the effort. They passed through a gate then slowed and stopped at the guard shack. Paul again produced his identification for the poker-faced gatekeeper who waved them through only after taking the ID into the guard house and consulting with his computer. The haze of near sleep dropped away as Paul looked around and took in the high fences laced at the top with curls of concertina wire. _They want to keep somebody out…or maybe in._

The imposing white building that was Paya's House rose up before him as they traveled onward, rolling over the smooth new roadway. The late winter morning was still cool but the black pavement heated quickly and sent up shimmers of air which made the house waver in the growing heat. Paul noticed that there was no landscaping, only neat roads and sidewalks between graveled areas that might have been lawn in another climate. The gravel went right up to the sides of the great white edifice. _Guess they spent all the bucks on the inside. _Remembering he was here on assignment, he removed a camera from one of the bags and proceeded to point it at the building – only to be stopped by a large palm over the lens. He pulled back his precious instrument lest any oil from the hand be transferred to the pristine glass. "I'm here to take pictures," he stated flatly, suppressing his anger over the guard's action.

"Not yet, Mr. Rand. You have to be processed."

"Processed?"

"Yes, sir. We're at security now. Please come inside with me. And please leave all your bags. We'll take them to your quarters."

"If you don't mind, I prefer to carry the cameras myself."

"Yes, sir."

_Well, it's true I've not signed a contract yet. But, 'processed'? Suddenly I feel like I'm about to become canned meat or perhaps a cheese food product. _

He followed the guard through the plain white front door that simply said, "SECURITY" and was led into a small waiting room. "Please make yourself comfortable, Mr. Rand. The Chief will be with you shortly."

Paul evaluated the stark room's smooth brown upholstered chairs and chose one in a corner, facing the door he'd come through. There were no pictures on the bare walls, no windows to look out of or magazines to peruse. The discomfort he had begun feeling did not abate as he waited. Fifteen minutes dragged by. Paul had the opportunity to study the seemingly blank room until he noticed what might be a small camera protruding from the ceiling in a corner opposite the one he was sitting in. Suddenly feeling very self-conscious, he went about recalling the past quarter of an hour. Had he picked his nose or done anything else uncivilized? _Am I being scrutinized?_

Finally, an internal door opened and another guard addressed him. "Mr. Rand? The Chief will see you now. Please come with me."

Paul again shouldered his two carry-ons and followed. The guard ushered him through another door which opened to a crisp military man with a sharp angular face, who sat behind a desk and was currently talking on the phone. The man motioned for Paul to take one of the seats in front of the desk, which he did, carefully placing his bags on the other chair. The man continued his phone call, "I understand. No Sir. Yes, Sir, I understand completely. I'll send you a full report as soon as they've landed."

The phone call gave Paul an opportunity to study the person he was about to meet. Broad-square shoulders bore a thickish neck barely above them before it morphed into the hawk-like face that was sparsely crowned by the nearly shaved head of hair above it. The skin was nicely browned. Either the man carried some non-European descent with him or spent time under the blazing New Mexico sun.

The conversation finished and the man turned his attention to his guest. He rose, extending a strong hand, "Paul Rand, I'm Steve, but you can just call me 'Chief' like everyone else does." Paul had risen with the Chief stood and met the hearty but brief shake.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Chief."

"Well, any friend of Sally's is a friend of mine!" The Chief smiled but Paul saw that his sharp eyes remained business-like. "So I need to brief you on a few things, Paul."

"Yes, I was told that I needed to be 'processed'." The barest of grimaces flashed across his face.

"Let me give you the short version. This facility is funded and completely owned by ELSHCC. We fondly just refer to them as 'The Company'. What I am about to reveal to you has been top-secret and eyes-only for the past ten years. But, The Company has recently decided to officially reveal the existence of this place to the public. That's what you're here for. To take pictures. The Company is extremely sensitive about this. They want only the best light shown on what is happening here so that American's can be proud of what we're doing. Understand?"

"Not really," Paul replied frankly. "Just what are you doing here?"

"Before I tell you that, I need you to understand that you will only be allowed to photograph certain areas, certain people and certain events. If we see that you are following the rules – great. If not, your camera's memory modules will be confiscated and you will be prosecuted for breach of contract." The Chief's eyes betrayed no emotion, only cold hard facts.

"But I've signed no contract," Paul protested mildly.

"You will in just a moment. That is, if you still want this job. If you don't, just give the word and you'll be back outside the gates and on the way to the airport."

_Without even seeing Sally, _Paul realized. _Censorship sucks, but it's the only way they're gonna let me in here._ "Okay, I'll bite. I'll sign and then obviously only shoot what I'm told to shoot."

The Chief shoved the thick contract towards Paul, "The places you are to sign are highlighted. You can read it back in the waiting room. Take your time." The Chief rose and opened his office door. He nodded to the guard there who came in to escort Paul who politely offered a departing handshake to the Chief, who reciprocated with his usual brief clasp, and said, "It's great to have a team player aboard. Welcome to the team, Paul." He gave the barest of polite smiles and then returned to his desk. Feeling quite dismissed, Paul followed the guard back out to the room.

It took several hours to get through the contract. Parts of it were the normal lawyer and govermental gobbledy gook. Parts of it were somewhat understandable. One such part was the amount he would be compensated. It was hefty and made him stop and reread the figure. _Niiiiiiccceee! You sure must have the money to spend, Sally. If you even had any say in this contract._ Finally, he had signed all the highlighted places and closed the sheaf. Confirmation he was being watched came in the form of the guard's immediate presence to take the contract and escort him to the outside door. "We'll get you a copy of this and have it sent to your quarters, Mr. Rand."

"I thought The Chief was going to brief me on this place?"

"Ms. DeHaven has requested to brief you herself, Mr. Rand."

"When? Where?"

"I don't know the details, sir. Here's your ride."

The Hummer was just off the curb and he clambered into the back again, noticing that his single driver was a now a new guard he'd not met yet. "I'm Paul Rand," he stated, sliding into the middle of the seat.

"Yes, sir," the guard replied. "I'll be taking you to your quarters, Mr. Rand. It's a short drive. You'll have an hour to yourself, sir and then someone will call you with your itinerary."

Within a few minutes, Paul was deposited inside a very nice guest suite. The only disconcerting thing was that he thought he heard the door lock behind him. Trying the handle he discovered himself a prisoner. _I suppose they don't want me running around unescorted, _he reasoned and tried to relax. As promised, his luggage was sitting on a dresser across from a king-sized bed. It was as nice as any hotel he'd stayed in with a couched sitting area, supplied bar and fridge, and luxurious tiled shower. He explored the room and then went to the pair of curtains hanging from the ceiling down the wall. Pulling them back he was delighted to find a window. It wouldn't open but at least he had a lovely view of mountains in the distance.

Realizing he felt grubby after a day of travel, he glanced at his watch and headed towards the shower but stopped suddenly as a thought occurred to him. _Are their cameras in here? _Carefully, he went back over every inch of the walls and ceilings. Finding nothing to confirm his question, he again headed to the shower.

* * *

_He's here! _The office assistant had reported Paul's arrival to Sally and that he was now in a guest suite and had been told to expect a phone call outlining his schedule. _That's a pretty cold introduction. I'm not going to his room – that's too personal. But I will call and welcome him. Bet he could use a friendly voice after meeting with the Chief. I'll give him a level-three tour. Should we have dinner together this evening? Glad I thought to call and ask the Chief if he'd mind if I explained the House to Paul. He actually seemed to be relieved to be rid of the job! What does he do all day in that little security office?_

She reached for the phone on her desktop and dialed the four digit internal number to connect her with the guest room. The day had been fast-paced and Sally's foot tapped impatiently for Paul to answer. After five rings, the phone switched over to the automatic messaging system. "Paul, its Sally, I wanted to welcome you and see if you're ready to take a tour? Just press your callback button to phone me. Glad you're here!"

_I guess he's in the bathroom._

Turning to other things she had yet to accomplish before the day was done, her internal com buzzed. "Yes?" she answered.

"Sally, its Dr. Liu. I'm sorry to bother you but several of us are very uncomfortable working with the alien in here. He keeps opening his mouth and trying to get our scent! I guess he thinks we don't notice, or else he doesn't think it's rude. Please, can you ask him to stop?"

"Doctor, I realize that working with Sig-dan in the lab is an inconvenience. His race utilizes their sense of smell a great deal more than we do – you know that. How can I ask him not to smell? That would be like asking you to do your work without seeing. Wouldn't it?"

"We're just uncomfortable around him. We don't want anything…any untoward advances made to any of us women."

"I can assure you that will not happen! This particular Hunter has been given a set of orders by his superior. I am certain that he is fully concentrating on carrying them out. You know how honor-bound and committed to duty they are."

"Yes, we all studied them. This just doesn't feel right. Could you please speak to him?"

Sally nearly sighed. "Yes, I'll have a word with him. Hopefully I can convey the situation without insulting him! You do realize that this might insult him, don't you? I am supposed to be creating good relations with the Hunters for the benefit of The Company. For the benefit of us all!"

"I understand Sally and I know you'll be okay. You have a way with them, you know. Must go now, the timer on an experiment just went off."

The com clicked silent as the Paya's House Administrator thought about how and when to approach Sig'dan. Her pondering was interrupted by the ring of the phone. Looking at the unit's screen, she saw it was Paul.

"Hello there! I trust you had a good trip?"

"Hi Sally! It was tolerable. I'm ready to tour any time. Was in the shower when you called earlier."

"I figured. Okay, it's almost eleven. I have some things to tidy up before I'm free for the afternoon. How about if I have a car pick you up and bring you to my office? We can have a bite of lunch if your hungry, the cafeteria here is pretty good and then I'll show you around."

"Sounds great! Uh, Sally…can I take shots during the tour?"

"Yes, bring your equipment. I have a set of guidelines from the Chief about what you can photograph and when. I bet you hate this don't you?"

"You know it! But I had to agree to it to even get inside. And I wasn't going back home without seeing you, Sally."

There was an uncomfortable silence, but Sally quickly found the proper thing to say, "And we've quite a bit to catch up on, I'm certain. Okay, then, I'll send a car to bring you here. Don't be surprised if I'm in the middle of stuff when you get here. This place can't seem to sneeze without me."

"See you soon, then."

"Soon." She hung up and strode out the door, headed to the lab. Time for a little chat with Sig'dan. The lab crew would most likely be going to lunch soon, best to grab for some privacy while she could. It was a small elevator ride and a moderate hike to reach the lab. Sally felt good stretching her long legs after a morning spent at the desk. Running her badge through the scanner, the lab's double doors parted and allowed her inside.

As she figured, the place was deserted of human life forms. All of them had banded together around a table in the cafeteria where they could chew on their unhappiness at sharing a lab with a Yautja. Sally looked around and found the offending Yautja with his large head bent down over the eyepieces of a microscope. One eye was pressed to the scope as the pieces were set too close together for him to view in stereo. Human faces were much narrower than Yautja ones.

"Excuse me, Honorable Sig-dan." She interrupted his work. He had heard someone enter but, figuring it was one of the lab regulars returning for something, he'd ignored it. Now Sally's voice caused his great head to fly up and sent metal-ringed locks clanking against the metal microscope. Involuntarily, he discretely tried to catch her non-existent scent.

"Sal'lee!" he exclaimed. "I am honored to see you." His mandibles gaped in a welcoming smile which was sincerely reflected in his bright brown eyes.

"And I am honored also," she replied. "I need to talk with you about something."

"Sei," he agreed, focusing his full attention on her and looking as if he expected to be dressed down. Sally caught the downcast eyes and thought he looked rather guilty. But knowing her novice ability at interpreting their alien expressions, she simply began to address him.

"Sig-dan, I know that you are a most honorable Hunter," she began diplomatically and noticed that he drew himself up to stand a bit taller and then made eye contact, during her statement. "I also know that our human ways are not your Yautja ways. Our different ways are both good and serve our races well but we must admit we have differences in the way we do things." She looked at his still most attentive brown eyes as it struck her how very human they appeared. Regaining her train of thought, she went on.

"Some of the lab workers are very uncomfortable working around you. I believe it is just that they do not know you yet. Not as well as I know you, anyway. And so they are uncomfortable."

Patiently, the Hunter waited while the ooman Matriarch spoke of the obvious. He wondered why she took such great care with her words and sensed a nervousness about her manner he had not noticed before.

"Sei, I know this, Sal'lee. I am…careful with them. Not wish to harm by stepping on them."

"Oh, I'm sure you are very careful, Sig'dan! What I'm talking about is something else. Some of the females have noticed you breathing around them."

Sig'dan raised both his brows as his questioning mandibles wavered. "Sei. I must breathe." _This is incredible. Do the ooman females want me to quit breathing? _

Sally struggled to explain, "No…I mean, yes. Of course you must breathe. What they are concerned about is that they think that you are doing is trying to smell them."

What could only be described as a smirk wavered over the Hunter's face as his mandibles flexed and then held a clenched position. His eyes again went to the floor as he softly spoke, "I…I did not think they…knew." The Yautja struggled to the find the correct words. His English was improving but he still had difficulty.

"So, you WERE trying to smell them?"

"Sei," he admitted. "It is something that we do…we do not have to think most of the time. We can tell. We tell about each other by…by scent." He paused and studied his feet in a way that made him seem almost shy to Sally. "Honorable Matriarch of Paya's House, I have not had…chance to scent ooman females since I was a pup. So now…now I try. You have no scent, but they do! Did. They cover it now."

"I think I understand how important scent is in your communication. It is for this reason that those of us who work with the Ancients cover our scent," Sally explained.

"Sei, the ack-o-lite said this to me. She had no scent. I checked." He had been looking directly at her as she spoke, but now returned his gaze to the floor as he admitted his previous action.

Sally smiled to herself at the thought of Sig'dan towering over and trying to get his scent organs full of one of her nurse aides, known as Paya's acolytes to the Ancients. She made a mental note to speak with the aide Michelle about the encounter.

"I must respectfully ask you to stop trying to smell the females who work in the lab. They don't like it. It is not something that we humans do, so they are not accustomed to it. Understand?"

The young Hunter nodded his head in the affirmative. "I did not mean to offend," he bowed again to her. "Only curious."

"No one is offended, Sig-dan. Please just don't do it anymore. Okay? I can understand and appreciate your curiosity. I have to run now. I'm giving someone a tour of Paya's House. He's documenting, uh, making a pictorial history of this place." She smiled at him and then went back out the doors. The Hunter paused where he was, still trying to digest all of the strange words and noticing that she did not run when she left. He wondered about several things. Firstly, he wondered how many words and nuances of this odd language still remained for him to learn and he also wondered who the new human was who would be making a history of pictures. It had not slipped by him that the new human was a male or that Sally had been nervous when talking about him. _Why do oomans say 'run' when they mean walk?_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Like the silent swoop of a nighthawk, the darkened ship of silvery-gray slipped the pull of Yaut and headed for the nearest inter-galactic gateway. In a single eye blink it crossed the circular horizon and vanished on a faster-than-light path to the former hunting orb known as the Blue Planet. Onboard the sleek craft, a troubled Elder Hunter tapped his worthy talons impatiently on the solid metal armrest of his seat, leaving a pattern of tiny indentations from the tips of his steely claws. The ship was computer-guided along the now familiar route and there was little for him to do until they were spit out of the gateway nearest the planet its inhabitants called 'Earth'.

Another feeble-minded Ancient passenger was now on board for delivery to Paya's House and the crew was performing an official rotation schedule of spending time with him. It was an arduous task as the oldster would tell the same hunting tales over and over again until the listener wanted to fall on his own blade from boredom. In order to lessen the duress on any individual, Elder Ulfr had created a duty rotation. He would take his turn of course, as he demonstrated that wonderful Yautja quality of not asking his subordinates to do anything he would not do himself.

He inhaled deeply and stretched out both Herculean arms, before rising and heading to his quarters. On the way, he made a check of the galley to ensure no one was there. Earlier he had directed the crew to abstain from food so as to demonstrate genuine appetites to the Paya's House Administrator, Sally. He was, and therefore so was his crew, under orders to be mannerly and forge good working relations with the humans on the Blue Planet side of this mission. His commanding glare found no one eating. Not that he expected to find anyone, as no one of the crew would be so insubordinate or stupid. With a huff and a satisfied grunt he went on to his suite.

Inside the small but accommodating rooms of the Hunt vessel's top lodgings the Elder habitually glanced at his trophy wall which was situated to imposingly fill the initial view of anyone who entered. A phenomenally large Queen hard meat skull took the center place of honor surrounded by lesser hard meat skulls and boney trophies acquired from strange and far-away places. Quite a few human skulls graced one corner of his impressive collection. When Blue Planet hunting had been legal, he had staked out several favored areas where the prey had proven to be illusive, and even challenging. He ran a thick, strong hand over the polished cranium of one of his best male trophies. This one had been a warrior among his people and had finally turned aggressively to fight when he realized he could not shake his pursuer. In truly worthy prey, fear gives birth to dauntless anger. This one had charged him with only a spear in hand, roaring as fiercely as an unblooded youth!

Ulfr had not been cloaked during that hunt. It would have been an unfair advantage over such poor senses and technology. He stood fondling the cranium, remembering the great bounding leaps of the large, muscular warrior, clad in a feather headdress and animal skin loincloth with wide strips of thickly furred skin protecting his upper arms and shins. The creature was so graceful and so intent in his attack that Ulfr had nearly been stunned by the beauty of it. Fortunately, he had shaken the entrancement and come to his senses in time to extend and raise his wrist blades, his dah'kte, to impale the ooman. Had he not done so, he was certain that the long sharp iron blade of the prey's short spear would have buried itself in his own belly. _Worthy prey! What did they call themselves? _He searched the great data banks of his mind. Always one to study up on his prey, he found himself more appreciative of a trophy when he thoroughly understood its origins. _Zulu, they called themselves Zulu _came the answer.

* * *

His brows knitted a bit with anxiety, Paul stood at the front window of the lobby of the onsite guest hotel for visitors to Paya's House, watching a late model Prius pull around the circle and stop in the shade of the covered entrance. Dutifully hanging his cameras over one shoulder, he optimistically put on his cheerful face and briskly stepped outside.

Sally could dimly make out a figure through the darkly shaded building windows as she drove up to the front door. Putting the car in park, she exited the vehicle and turned to make for the door when she saw him jauntily crossing the driveway and coming around the front of the car to her.

"Sally!" he beamed and ignored her extended hand to close in for a small hug. She lightly returned his greeting with a small, polite squeeze and then released him. "I'm glad you're here, Paul. Ready to see the place?"

"Climb in," she directed after a nod affirmed his readiness. After their belts were buckled, she kept the car in park and turned to him, "First off, let me tell you a few things before we proceed."

"I'm more than ready, but Sally…please let me get something out here. I've missed you! We've hardly kept in touch. I mean, I get that this job has swallowed you up, but I was beginning to think that we were over for good!"

Sally took a relaxing breath as she mentally composed her response. "You're right. This job has become my entire life. I honestly don't know if there's time for anything of a personal nature between us. But, anyway," she proceeded more cheerfully, "when they needed a documentary photographer I told them you were the best! And now here you are!"

Stuffing down some disappointment, he noted that she'd not come right out and said their relationship was done for. Then, he answered, "Well, uh, thanks for the recommendation."

"Of course! And now you're about to see what very few have been allowed access to – are you ready?" Sally redirected the conversation and played on the man's curiosity.

As she talked, she nosed the Prius out of the drive onto the street and drove toward the part of Paya's compound that housed offices and the cafeteria. "I thought I'd brief you and we could have a bite of lunch before we set off picture taking."

"Yea, you mentioned that. I'm not particularly hungry, just curious."

"Well, I need to grab something to keep my energy up. It won't take long. So, to begin, this entire facility is basically a nursing home for the elderly of the aliens that we call Hunters."

"Wwwhat? It is?" Paul's face was a mixture of amazement and disappointment. "I'm here to take pictures of a nursing home?"

"Oh, you'll find it quite unlike any nursing home you've ever been in before," she laughed. "The Hunters, the Yautja, made a deal with us some time ago. They have a new problem. Their elderly, they call them Ancients, are showing symptoms that look to us like some kind of dementia and they're not equipped at all in their society to handle them. The Yautja have never seen anything like this before. So, to make a long story short, the company put together a solution where they are brought here and we take care of them for the rest of their lives."

As he listened, Paul's story instincts were returning fast. "Is it like Alzheimer's?"

"In some ways it resembles Alzheimer's, but it's not that. However, the company's experience in providing Alzheimer's and dementia care has given us an excellent base of knowledge to use in the creation of the Paya's House program. In a nutshell, we take how we handle people and blow it up Yautja-size!"

"So why do they need mere humans to handle this for them?" Paul was taking careful mental notes. "I mean, they used to hunt us, you know, before…"

"Yautja elderly normally stay very strong physically and mentally deep into their old age. It is only at the very end that they begin to fail. These Ancients are still in their prime and then suddenly go downhill and are unable to function in society. They are mentally and physically weak. That is a disaster for a Yautja. An embarrassment really."

"So, you keep them here," Paul interrupted. "Sort of out of sight, out of mind for the Hunter planet."

"Yes, I guess you could put it that way. As you'll see, we have figured out how to manage them and keep them living in a way that they can still find useful and pleasurable things to do. They can still enjoy life here. I'm very proud of what we're doing here."

"So, what do we, what does the company get in return for caring for their Ancients?"

"There has been a technology payoff. I'll show you some of it when you tour the House."

"Did we get any weapons?" He asked bluntly.

"Weapons?" Sally looked surprised. "Uh, not that I've seen."

"Just wondering," he shrugged.

Sally grabbed a sandwich in the cafeteria along with bottled water. Paul nursed a diet cola while she munched and talked between bites. She explained how only female aides had been hired in order to prevent the possibility of the Ancients hunting the staff and how the aides camouflaged their scent.

"So before I take you into Paya's House proper, I'll need you to shower with our special soap. Your clothing will be odor neutralized and there is a medication I need you to take. It won't harm you. You won't be meeting any Ancients up close today, but their ability to smell is only rivaled by a Bloodhound. I have to take certain precautions for your safety, Paul."

"But you said they're feeble," he countered good-naturedly. "I bet I could handle one!" He flexed his arms dramatically while giving a teasing grin.

"Don't even joke about it!" Sally said sternly and then suddenly it dawned on her, "You've never seen one live and up close, have you?"

"As a matter of fact, I haven't" he answered.

"I'll see what I can do about that. In the meantime, I'll tell you – no, you couldn't handle one. Even an old decrepit Ancient is far too large, too heavy and too strong for any man to encounter safely."

"Okay, you win. But I have to ask, is this just some excuse just to get me to take my clothes off?" he eyed her with a half-smile of familiarity.

"You'll be showering alone," she answered dryly and then smiled sweetly.

A bit later, Paul stood with Sally at the human portal to the inner sanctum of Paya's House. Freshly cleansed, with cameras at the ready, he followed her through the door. Once inside, she began explaining where he was as he slowly turned in a circle, looking all around at the expansive whiteness.

"This is the central area. Ancients who come here believe that they are in the afterlife and are in the domain of one of their race's gods called Paya. White is her color, so that's why everything is a shade of white in here. See the fountains? There are cushioned seats around them. Yautjas practice a sort of prayer ritual there. Let's walk over that way."

With Paul on her heels and still looking up and around like he was in a redwood forest, they went over to where jets of water spouted up towards the ceiling and then returned to the marble basin in a small rain. "Listen," Sally requested and pressed a button on her wrist comp. A rumbling low voice reverberated through the air. In answer to Paul's quizzical face, she said, "It's Paya's voice. We took a recording of a Yautja male speaking in their native language and altered it to sound like a female. We play it to reassure and calm the Ancients."

"So that's a higher voice than a male's? Wow!"

Sally laughed, "No, its lower. Their females are, or rather were the larger of the two sexes."

Paul remained amazed as Sally took him to the 'reawakening' room where the Ancients were told that they had died during a hunt. Then they went to see a not-yet-occupied Ancient's room where he was amazed by the size of the fur-covered bed, latrine and soaking tub.

"Just look at this," exclaimed Sally, hauling out a large absorbent paper loincloth from a drawer. "Know what it is?"

"Bath towel?" Paul guessed, hopefully.

"Nope."

"Uh, toilet paper?"

"Close! It's a disposable loincloth. Like a Depends for humans. Works great, too!"

Sally's enthusiasm for the workings of the House was infectious and Paul had been snapping away, taking pictures of the beauty and function of the place.

"Let's skip photographing the diaper, Paul. That was just private fun. We don't want to assault their dignity."

"Like they are going to read the article and see these pictures?"

"Probably," she nodded. "They have overseen everything to do with this place. And of course, anything to do with Earth is of interest to them…now." She referred to the current practice of Hunters taking human females as mates without actually saying it.

"Yea. There IS that now, isn't there." His face became very serious. "Are you at all nervous or afraid, working here? I mean, do you come into contact with any of them. I mean besides the Ancients."

"I'm not worried about it. In the first place, I cover my scent daily. And then we have an amazing amount of security here. You saw that."

"Oh, I sure did."

"And, well, that's not part of their mission right now."

"What do you mean?"

"I interface with the crew that brings the Ancients here. In fact I host dinners for them. The company built a hospitality room just for that reason. We have to be on excellent terms with them!"

Paul was speechless for a moment. Then he spoke in low and serious tones, "I had no idea this job would put you in so much danger, Sally."

"I'm not in danger, Paul! In fact, Ulfr and his crew are very…very gentlemanly! True, they are rather imposing figures, but once you get to know them…it's different. I don't feel a bit frightened around them and if there was ever a problem – why…Ulfr would put it down in a minute!"

He was rather surprised at Sally's defense of them. But she was the alien expert here, not he, so he checked his responses and went on questioning. "So Ulfr is their leader? How many of them are there in the crew?"

"Yes, Elder Ulfr is the leader. His crew consists of Ab-bi, his second-in-command, Myndill, who is a doctor. They call them Healers. And Kylfa who I believe is just a member of the crew and lastly, Sig-dan. He's Ulfr's younger brother and is studying to be a Healer. My pronunciation of their names isn't quite kosher, but it's the best I can manage. They make clicks with their tusks that we can't manage to replicate."

"Are they here?" Paul asked eagerly.

"No. Well, Sig-dan is. He's doing some work in our lab. But Ulfr and the rest of the crew are out picking up another Ancient to bring here. Would you like to meet Sig-dan?"

"Definitely! I mean, I would if…if that would be okay security-wise."

"Oh, to hell with the Company on this, Paul! Let me just find out if it's okay with Sig-dan. I mean he might not want an interruption in his work. I have no idea how he would feel about meeting you, so I need to ask. Can't risk a confrontation, you understand, I'm sure."

"Uh, yea. I understand. So, do I actually get to see one of these Ancients?"

"Yes. Just have a seat here behind me and stay very still. Please say nothing. One of the Ancients is on his way to the kehrite…well, I guess you'd call it a gym, for a workout. We can see him from here."

"Can I photograph him?"

"Not if he is using weapons. The Company doesn't want to show any pictures that might make folks nervous. He may just do some stretching, though."

Paul readied his cameras and waited, eyes on what Sally had called a gym directly across from them. They were perched on one of the many white benches that were strung throughout the House, affording a ready seat to any Ancient who became tired while walking. No Ancient was yet in sight. Paul whispered to Sally, "Can I see that room up close, later?"

"Sure. Now hush."

She shushed him just as a lumbering bent-over hulking Ancient shuffled into view. His long white metal-ringed locks clanked along in time with his decrepit pace and he occasionally stopped to raise his great head, turn it from side-to-side and huff at the air. An aide followed him, but at a distance. She saw, but ignored, Sally and Paul sitting on the bench.

When the Ancient finally hobbled into the gym, the aide scurried in front of him and said something that Paul couldn't hear. He noticed that her eyes were downcast and she assumed a demure posture in front of the huge alien. Now that the creature was standing still, Paul could take all of him in. He guessed that the female aide was on the tall side perhaps five feet ten or so. The alien was bent over but still was a good three feet taller. His shoulders were broad, though stooped and Paul could see where the muscles had deteriorated and allowed the greenish brown skin to hang slack. The aide ran to the wall and took down a short double-headed spear and presented it respectfully to the Ancient. He took the weapon with his shaky hand and Paul witnessed a small transformation. The oldster seemed to draw himself up and stand a bit taller. With a practiced flick of the hand, the spear extended once and then twice until it was a long elegant shaft. A target now appeared in front of the wall some distance from the Ancient who hefted his weapon and threw it. It was apparent that the throw had no power behind it. But something strange happened. As though possessed, the spear straightened trajectory, gained speed and plunged point-first into the dead center of the target. With a grunt of approval from the Yautja, the aide ran down to the target, retrieved the weapon and returned it to the thrower for another try. This happened several times and then the Ancient appeared to lose interest because when the aide ran to fetch his practice spear, he wandered away. When she realized her charge was distracted, she ignored the weapon and sprinted after him.

After the grizzled Ancient had shuffled off to parts unknown, and Paul had photographed him, he turned to Sally, "A thousand thoughts are whirling through my head. 'God, he's big' is probably the first one. A Hunter in good condition must be amazing!"

"That is an understatement!" She smiled at him for the first time in a relaxed genuine way.

"And how in hell did the spear hit the target? He threw like crap!"

Sally gave a small low laugh. It's a tractor beam. Part of the technology we received in payment. It's important that he feel successful in his endeavor. So we train a beam on the weapon, it's not a real weapon by the way, and then the tractor beam pulls it toward the center of the target. Very convincing to the demented."

"It's not real? It looks real?"

"It's not. Come on," she got up and looked around. "No Ancients in sight." She strode off toward the gym, Paul in tow. Upon entering, she went to the wall and pulled down a short sword and offered it to Paul who felt the handle and blade.

"It's so light! Plastic?"

"A new metallic polymer. More tech payment. We use it to craft all the weapons and we explain to the Ancients that Paya's weapons are different but true and effective."

"They swallow that, huh? Well, how do you make them effective?"

"We have an excellent hologram projector! We project another Hunter for them to fight. It's real enough to convince them."

"More technical payment! Amazing." Paul looked lost in thought for a few minutes. Sally let him digest the information. "I dunno, Sally. Something about this bothers me. Do the other Hunters know what you do here? How this place works?"

"I'm sure that the home planet knows – I mean whoever is in charge there. Like I said, they've helped us with this every step of the way. In fact we have an extensive library and laboratory provided by Yaut!"

Sally couldn't help but feel defensive at Paul's questions. Yet, even as she did, old feelings about him resurfaced. She tried not to care about what he might think about the House or about her, even as she remembered how he always cut right to the heart of any issue.

He sensed she was slightly put off. He had dared to question something very dear to her. And there seemed to be some sore place where he had just prodded. He needed to find out more. "Hey, didn't mean to step on your toes. I just always go by my gut – you know. It's probably nothing. Is there anything else to see?"

"Lots of behind the scenes stuff. Why don't we tackle that tomorrow?" She glanced at her watch. It was later than she'd planned for the tour to be over for the day.

"Do you have any place to be?" Paul asked. "I was hoping maybe we could have dinner."

"Well, I'm supposed to have dinner with my guest Sig'dan this evening. Let me check with him and see if he'd mind having you join us. We were going to work out first."

Paul raised an eyebrow quizzically, "You work out with him? And have dinner? Alone?"

"Oh I am sure that Sig-dan's perfectly safe. He's a big kid really. This will be the second time we've done this. I thought it would be a good way for me to get to know him and pave the way for good relations with Ulfr and the rest of the crew. Besides, security is just a button press away." She held up her wrist which gave her access to House-wide communications. "More Yautja tech, of course! And pretty handy too."

"Okay. Sorry. I just worry for your safety, Sally. We all know that they steal women."

"Well, nobodies going to steal me! And, thanks for caring, Paul. I'll check with Sig-dan and get back to you. Do you want to join us for the work out?"

"Do you have any weights?"

"Yes! The security guys have some in their gym. I'll have them brought here."

"Thanks. I need to go back to my room to change. I brought shorts and stuff just in case."

"Ha! Always prepared! Take my car, Paul. I'll give you a call in a bit."

"Great. Talk to you in a bit then."

Sally exited the halls of the House and went to the sanctuary of her office. Kicking off her shoes, she rang up Sig'dan via her desk com while she changed into her Yoga clothing.

"Sei," a low serious voice answered.

"Sig-dan! It's Sally. How did your research go today?"

There was silence as the Hunter processed her question. "No good results yet. Will keep trying."

"My guest, Paul, the one I told you about is here to take pictures. I was wondering if you would mind if he came to the kehrite with us this afternoon and then maybe we could all have dinner together."

More silence followed. "Mind? Sal'lee…does he wish to spar?"

Sally's mind nearly shrieked at the thought, "No. He is going to lift weights. I'll do my Yoga and you can do, you know, what you do. Would you mind?"

"Mind? You ask my permission? In your own House?" Sally was horrified as she realized that a Hunter might interpret her words as weakness. Quickly she backtracked.

"No, Sig-dan. No. I was only informing you that we will have a guest. I thought it would be polite to inform you."

"Good. I have never met an ooman male. Will be interesting."

"Well, good then, Sig-dan. I'll see you in the arena after work then. Bye."

The line went dead as the Yautja disconnected. He had learned quickly that 'bye' signaled the end of the conversation, but had not realized that he was supposed to say it too.

_I look forward to meeting this ooman male. Ulfr has told me of hunting them. This will be most educational! Perhaps he will challenge me to spar!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Paul tried not to steal admiring glances at Sally. Tall and well-built, she was clad in form-fitting but stretchable black yoga clothing. One of the many things he found of value in Sally was her commitment to her health. Other women that he knew around her age had often let themselves go and didn't find the inspiration to eat well and exercise. Based upon observing the wives of his married friends, he was certain that not having had children also played a role in her trim figure.

"Sig-dan will be here soon. He has some things to finish up in the lab and then he'll drop back by his room to get his weapons."

"Weapons?" Paul looked startled. "You allow him to have weapons?"

"A Hunter isn't a Hunter without at least some of his armaments. Don't worry," she grinned, "I doubt he'll attack either of us. He uses them in his workout. You're in for a show that few people have seen."

"I'll take your word for it," he replied dryly and went over to the rack of weights and bench that had been furnished for his use. Facing the entrance, he began with some calisthenics and stretching before reaching for the dumbbells. _Thirty-five pounds to start. _He grabbed the bars with both hands and began to workout. It was good to feel his muscles begin to warm with the effort. He usually didn't go for huge amounts of weight, preferring to use many repetitions to achieve the desired muscular definition. Another glance over to his left showed Sally on her mat doing her asanas or Yoga poses. Her flexibility and balance always amazed him. He refocused on his own routine just in time to see Sig'dan enter the kehrite.

An instinctive response of fear exploded from the very core of his genetic memory. The shaved hair follicles on the back of his neck attempted to muster their stumps to attention. As a photo journalist, Paul had been in many threatening situations and was no stranger to danger. His deep mind's instinctive reaction to the Yautja caught him off-guard and he wavered in his movements as he willed his feet to stay put and his arms to calmly keep pumping iron. To say he was shocked was putting it mildly. Even though young and not yet fully developed, Sig'dan towered over Paul, who gulped involuntarily as he assessed the breadth of the Hunter's biceps and thoughts of inadequacy flooded his mind. _So huge! Tall! God-damned tall! Those pecs! Lats! Delts! Everything! Christ. _

The Hunter nodded a greeting to Sally and then came over to Paul, who was feeling very self-conscious as Sig'dan neared. Fighting the urge to run and hide, the man hurriedly put down his weights and extended a hand of welcome to the Hunter. Increasingly versed in human customs, Sig'dan stretched forth his own mighty paw and clasped the man's, all the while discretely huffing in vain for any scent. Carefully, he tried to match the man's grip in order to avoid crushing the appendage and moved in the slight up and down motion that was expected.

"I am Sig'dan." The Yautja introduced himself in his gravelly deep voice. _The ooman is nervous but stands his ground. I scented something. Something very faint – fear? _Sig'dan nearly clicked in amusement and was momentarily tempted to spread his maw and growl to see if the man would pee his pants, as he had heard they would sometimes do when confronted with a Hunter in full display.

"I'm Paul, pleased to meet you," came quite smoothly from the man's mouth as he pretended this were an everyday occurrence. Used to being thrown into situations at a moments notice, Paul was good at keeping his outward cool, even if his heart was pounding.

Sig'dan maturely ignored his own desire to have fun and instead looked curiously at the bench and the collection of weights. "I am learning about your customs," he explained. "What is this, please?"

Sally watched from a distance as the Hunter and human met and began chatting. She held her breath when Sig'dan took Paul's hand and was relieved when she realized that the Yautja was observant and careful during the shake. She nearly laughed when a slight nod in her direction let her know that Sig'dan was aware of her discomfort. _He can't smell me but he's very adept at reading my body language. I wonder how long he's been studying me. Hmmmmm._

Sig'dan watched and listened intently as Paul showed him the equipment and how to use the dumbbells and barbells. He nodded his head in understanding several times. Utilization of weight to built strength was a known training routine among the Yautja. He tried not to express shock when he realized the lightness of the equipment the human was using - a mere pup's workout to say the least. Out of respect that this male was Sally's guest, he said nothing and thanked Paya that the oomans could not interpret his mandible quavers.

Still off to the side, Sally continued her Yoga while keeping an eye on the males. So far, Paul seemed to be taking everything in stride and even seemed to enjoy showing the weight equipment to Sig'dan. After Paul was finished, she heard him ask Sig'dan to demonstrate his form of exercise. Unwilling to miss either the show or Paul's reaction to it, she rolled up her mat and waited.

Surprise shook her when the Hunter approached and quietly requested permission to perform for Paul. _Another show of respect I think, since this is my domain and kehrite. So very polite of him. I shall have to remember to report on his excellent manners to Ulfr when he returns._ "Sei," she answered, in Yautja and returned Sig'dan's nod of respect.

So Sig'dan went out on the floor a little ways and began his slow-movement 'dance' that reminded Sally of shadow-boxing. She moved over to be near Paul and answer any questions. Letting the cool façade drop momentarily, he silently mouthed a "Holy Shit' to her and then resumed watching. She found it hard to suppress her own grin as he revealed that he was as excited as a kid on Christmas to be interacting with an alien.

They were both mesmerized by the huge Hunter's ability to maintain grace and balance as his movements became faster and faster. He was breathing hard now as he jumped into the air and kicked out at ghostly threats, then landed as lightly as a cat before going into another dervish of death as his fists and feet warded off the unseen enemy. He came to a stop and inclined his black-locked head towards his audience. Then he held up one arm around whose wrist a thick metal device was fastened. Paul's idea that it was ornamentation was quickly discarded as long and thin twin blades smoothly emerged from the dorsal side in one heart-stopping sound. Like hearing a shotgun cocked in the darkness, the sound filled the silent watchers with dread as if it might be the last sound they ever heard. The wrist blades curved slightly in a crescent over the large taloned hand and gave Sig'dan a good foot of extra deadly rapiers to wield.

Once more, the Hunter looked to Sally, his eyes asking permission to proceed. After only a nanoseconds worth of wondering why he was looking at her, she gave a subtle nod. It was like releasing a well-drawn sling-shot as the Yautja was immediately airborne, raking the dual blade through the throat of a swirling current of air. Over and over he leapt, ducked and whirled, all the while stroking the blades through the unseen flesh of both prey and enemy. He completed the exercise with a quiet stand and a bow and then lifted his eyes to his watchers.

Sally's face was flushed and she was enthusiastically clapping, just as she had when he had demonstrated to her the first time. Paul wore what the Hunter thought might be an expression of shock. His eyes seemed more open than before and his lower jaw was hanging below the top, slightly ajar. With a small shake of his head he seemed to regain himself and joined Sally in clapping. Sig'dan neatly retracted his blades and walked over to them, noticing that Paul's eyes never left his wrist. Did the human fear or was it simply curiosity?

"That was wonderful, Honorable Sig-dan!" Sally unabashedly praised him. "I appreciate the demonstration of your considerable skill. Didn't you, Paul?"

The man closed his mouth and found his tongue, "Why, yes! It was remarkable."

"Sig-dan could you please show Paul more of your weaponry? I'm sure he'd enjoy that. I need to excuse myself and I'll be back in a few minutes?"

Alarm rose up from Paul. She was leaving him alone with this nimble mountain? What was going on here? He looked questioningly at her, raising his eyebrows.

Sally tried to reassure him, "Uh, Paul, you'll be fine here and I'll be back in just a few." Her voice lowered, but not so low that the Hunter could not hear it. "I have to go!"

Paul nodded in understanding and put on his cheerful face. "Honorable Sig-dan," he copied Sally, "I would be very honored if you would show me more."

Sig'dan pulled his short blade from its sheath and allowed Paul to look at it, turning it so that the man could see it from every angle. Wisely, Paul did not try to touch it. Although it was a simple weapon, Paul figured it was probably kept well-sharpened. He was about to ask how Sig'dan cared for it when the Hunter rumbled at him.

"What did she mean? I am still learning your language."

"Oh! She meant for me to learn more about your weapons. I guess she wanted to make sure we had something to do while she was gone."

"Sei, yes, I mean. But not that. What did she mean when her words were "have to go? Go where?""

Paul caught the sincerely in Sig'dan's brown eyes and dared not snicker. What was the best way for him to explain this?

"Uh, that is an expression for having to relieve oneself."

Sig'dan shook his locks. "Not understand. Relieve?"

Paul decided the best answer would be the direct one, "She…a…you know, went. She had to urinate, Sig-dan. Pee?" Still, the large alien's large brow was scrunched. "You know, when your body produces liquid waste?" He sincerely hoped that the Yautja did understand that and he would not be called on to demonstrate.

The light of comprehension finally shone upon the Hunter and he shook his head in the affirmative. "Sei, understand now. Go. Went. Relieve. Pee. What was other word?"

"Urinate. It is the most technically correct term."

"Good! You explain good! So many words for one thing!" Sig'dan gave a mighty mandible grin and clicked his approval. "Paul. May I ask question?"

"Sure!" Paul responded.

"Do you train with weights to fight?"

"No, I don't fight."

"To hunt?"

"No. Don't hunt either."

Sig'dan was dumbfounded and blurted out, "Why then?"

Paul explained that it was to keep his body healthy and trim.

"Trim?" Sig'dan had never heard the word. "What is 'trim'?"

"Uh, to look good. Keep from getting fat, you know."

Sig'dan didn't completely understand, but decided to change the subject before Sally came back, "Paul, may I ask another question?"

"Sure." He was feeling a little amused by the alien's frank questioning.

"What is your…your…sorry, cannot think of word. What is your duty with Sal'lee?"

"Duty? Well I am here to take photographs of Paya's House…"

Sig'dan interrupted, "Know that. Not mean that. You and Sal'lee friends?" His brow went up with the question just like a person.

"Well yes, we are friends. We have been friends for some time now."

"Good friends?"

_What does he want to know? And why? _Well, yeah, we are or rather were good friends. We went on some dates and maybe we should leave it at that." Paul smiled, but Sig'dan could tell from the man's tension that he was treading into an uncomfortable topic. He also wondered what the word, 'date' meant in context with the other words and dutifully tucked it away to look up later, figuring he had asked enough questions.

To Paul's relief, Sally returned. Sig'dan had begun cleaning his wrist blades, showing Paul how to do it. He welcomed her return politely with an appropriate remark he had come up with to express his new found understanding of the situation as well as his appreciation of the ooman female, "Sal'lee feel better now?"

A snort came from Paul and he looked guiltily at the administrator, who handled it matter-of-factly. "Yes, I do Sig-dan. Thank you for asking."

The evening progressed with the trio adjourning from the kehrite to the Hospitality room where dinner awaited them. Paul was amazed at the efficiency with which Sig'dan's mandibles conveyed strips of raw meat to his mouth. He tried not to stare but found the entire process fascinating. The Hunter proceeded to his second helping of flesh while Paul's own medium-rare steak was barely touched.

"Meat not good?" Sig'dan questioned politely, willing to offer some of his own.

"Oh, no! It's fine. I have just never seen a Yautja eat before." Realizing that honestly was the best policy here, he added, "I am fascinated by how your mouth works."

Sig'dan gave another full grin, "Understand. Felt same way about tools Honorable Sal'lee use to eat. Even tried to use…once."

Sally smiled, remembering the incident. Now curious about Sally's reaction, Paul probed, "What happened?"

Sig'dan chortled, "Spear self with fork. Sal'lee come to see if I hurt. Elder not happy she do that. I was sent back to ship." Sig'dan dived happily back into his meal.

Paul looked curiously at the Hunter and then back to Sally, who was busy cutting another piece of steak. She took a bite and then realized that Paul was gazing at her. "Huh?" she said with her mouth full.

"Oh nothing. Just digesting Sig-dan's story. This is really great steak! Best I've had in some time." He beamed at her.

She smiled back, "I'm glad you like your meal."

Sig'dan watched their exchange. It was apparent that they had spent time together. Were they courting? Would Sally find such a puny male a suitable mate? What good was a male who did not fight or hunt? A male who, inexplicably, only trained to improve his appearance! Were all ooman males like this? He shook his head, _no they can not be. Ulfr has told me of hunting honorable prey that challenged him. And what is that word…date?_

The evening continued uneventfully. Eventually, Sig'dan bid Sally and Paul good sleep and went to his quarters. Once there, he pulled up the Yautja dictionary on ooman words and searched for 'date'. There were several meanings to choose from and he rethought the words that Paul had uttered using the different meanings until he was satisfied that he at least had a viable explanation for what the man had meant. He would include it in his report to Ulfr.

"I'll drop you off back at the hotel, Paul," Sally offered. "The facility shuttle is busy delivering staff for the night shift right now. It will take them forever to get you back there."

"Sure. Thanks, Sally." Paul didn't know if she had decided she needed a long explanation of why she offered the ride to him, or if it was her convenient excuse to accompany him to his room. He decided to wait and see.

Once comfortably inside the car, she asked him, "What do you think of Sig-dan?"

"Well, damn he's big! That was my first impression anyway. Any you say he's not full-grown?"

"Nope. The older Hunters are taller and bigger. They grow their entire lives you know, only slowly but they keep growing. That's why the Ancients are gigantic. If they were in full muscle tone and stood straight – why they'd be like super Yautja!"

"So you admire them?" Paul's professional side clicked in.

"Yes, I do," she replied without hesitation. "In spite of their past human hunting."

"And in spite of them stealing women from Earth?"

"It IS the only alternative they have right now to preserve their species. Wouldn't we do the same thing in their shoes?"

"Not for all the rice in China can I imagine myself sleeping with a Yautja female!" His warm laughter filled the car.

Sally joined him, "Well, I wasn't thinking about that pairing specifically! Besides, she'd most probably kill you!"

"By shear weight alone," he solemnly added.

They had reached the front of the hotel. "I had an amazing tour today, and got some amazing shots. All thanks to you. I appreciate this gig, Sally. Thanks."

"I'm glad you enjoyed the tour," she responded, her voice warm at his gratitude. He reached across the car and took her hand with a gentle squeeze. She didn't return it, but she didn't pull away.

"I know that Paya's House is your life now and I don't know what kind of distance relationship we can have. But for tonight, we are both here. I've missed you – so much. Being with you today, and especially at dinner tonight, brought it out for me again. I really enjoy being with you."

"Thank you, Paul. I've enjoyed today too." Her face began to pink in that familiar shade that either meant she was having feelings for him or was feeling stressed. He didn't know which and decided to take a chance.

"Will you come up for a nightcap?" His warm fingers gently rubbed the smooth skin on the back of her hand. The motion felt so comfortable, so familiar to her. Paul was always very easy to be with. She knew what he wanted and where this was going. The only question in her mind was did she want to go along with it? A familiar lover would be comforting right now and a brief release from her growing stress. But some part of her objected. She didn't know quite what it was and the situation was not giving her the time or the space to analyze it.

"Paul, I think I'll head for my apartment. Your invitation is appreciated, but it's been a long day and I think I just want to get some sleep. See you in the morning!"

Her answer skillfully subverted any of the possibilities that his imagination had toyed with for the evening, yet allowed him to save face. "Why sure, I can understand that. See you in the morning then! Have a good night's sleep!" His cheerful demeanor successfully hid his internal disappointment.

In the bathroom of her apartment, Sally finished cleansing her face of makeup and prepared for bed. Her mind was busy rolling over the evening. She reviewed the events in the kehrite and couldn't help but compare Sig'dan's unbounded muscles to Paul's toned and trim physique. Paul had the attractive build of a regular tennis player or perhaps a cyclist. And Sig'dan? To what could she compare any of the Yautja? Tarzan, perhaps. Ulfr's enormous bulk strode boldly onto the stage of her mind. What could Ulfr be compared to? Atlas maybe. Certainly some mythical god.

The next day was Paul's tour behind the scenes. It was not nearly as exciting as the previous day, but he dutifully snapped away with his camera as Sally showed him the processing rooms for acolytes where they showered away their scent and changed into work clothing. There were break rooms and a cafeteria just for their utilization. By necessity they were kept apart from the rest of the fully scented staff.

Next Sally took him to the holographic machinery located beneath the kehrite and beneath the port where the Hunter's ship landed. Paul viewed images of the African savannah where each Ancient thought he was leading a hunting party and of the various fighters or schools of trainees projected into the arena for the Ancient to spar or teach. It was impressive technology.

Tomorrow Paul was scheduled to present his photographs along with a simple narrative to the Company for their review and he was scheduled to leave. At about 3:15 in the afternoon, the security HumVee would take him on the long drive into Albequerque. So today was his last full day with Sally, his last day to make any headway with the idea of the continuation of their relationship.

He wasn't completely certain, and he had thought about it a great deal the night before, whether he was pushing this relationship with her because that was really what he wanted or because of the challenge it presented him. It was true that he enjoyed being around her. She was very attractive, smart, and even funny, and they had many of the same interests. And he knew that the odds of a long-term long distance relationship were low. _I don't want just a night in bed with her. I don't want to lose her! _His mind battled to justify his desires.

Their tour of the kitchen that prepared food for the Ancients was interrupted by a page on Sally's wrist com. "Excuse me for a minute, Paul. I need to take this." She punched her wrist several times and then proceeded to a phone in an alcove just off the kitchen. The place was rather quiet as the staff cut raw meat into small slices and prepared bowls of unknown fruit. Another filled large pitchers of pure water. Above the small preparation noises, Paul could hear Sally's voice. "Yes? Tomorrow? That's…unexpected. No, its fine, we'll handle it in our usual professional manner. Yes, of course I'll have a dinner prepared for them. Really? You want photographs? What will you do to assure his safety? I don't know if that's a good idea at all! How about just some pictures at the beginning of the meal and then get him away from them? Oh? Well I know for a fact that would be much safer!"

It was quiet for a few minutes as Paul strained to hear more, "Okay then, but I'm documenting my disapproval and filing it with the Company. The responsibility is on your head. AND, I'm going to be blunt with him about the risk."

Sally returned to find Paul dutifully watching carcasses of fresh beef being unloaded from a truck, hung from a portable rack and rolled into the huge refrigerator. Raising his hands he explained, "I haven't shot any of this part. It's probably too much for the public to stomach."

"You're correct," she shot back, visibly upset.

"I, a, couldn't help overhearing," he confessed. "What do they want me to photograph?"

"The transport that brings the Ancients is coming in tomorrow. They're coming in early. So the Company wants you to photograph us having dinner together. They think that pictures of Hunters treating a woman respectfully will be great publicity."

"Really!" Paul's face was split with happiness. "I get to shoot full grown Hunters? This Ulfr guy and his crew?"

"Don't be happy, Paul. This is really risky! You could die!"

"I promise to not piss them off!" he declared.

"It's not just that. They are experts at reading you Paul – even without scenting you. Especially Ulfr. He's made a great study of people somehow. If you offend him! Hell, I don't even know all about them and what might offend them and I've studied!"

"But I've managed not to tick off Sig-dan, haven't I?"

Sally looked at him, "For one thing, Sig-dan's been under my command and control here – Ulfr's orders. And he's just a kid. I don't know if he counts. Meeting Ulfr, Abbi and Myndill – wow, that's gonna be a whole different thing. For the record, I think this is a superbly stupid idea!"

"Hey, risk is part of my profession! I'm willing to chance it. So, do I get to have dinner with them too?"

"Yes. You'll meet them and we'll all have dinner and you'll take pictures – IF the Yautja agree to it. Paul, they drink at dinner and after dinner. They drink a lot. Frankly, I don't know how much it clouds their judgment."

"Well, why don't you consult with Sig-dan about it? I tell you what. I can tell you are really upset about this. In fact, I'm touched," he winked. "I'll abide by whatever the two of you decide, okay?"

Sally thought for a moment. "Paul! That is brilliant!" She lowered her voice to a whisper, "And if you weren't so determined to get me into your bed this week, I'd kiss you."

* * *

Sig'dan was surprised to get a request to meet Sally for lunch in the Hospitality room. Usually they didn't see each other until the end of the day. He was eager to join her, even if the human male was there. Briskly trotting through the hallways he grinned inside as staff quickened to get out of his way and then stood gawking as his impressive form jogged by. The hard smooth stone floor felt good as it met the nakedness of his strong feet, slapping down firmly from heel to toe and then pushing off again.

He punched open the door to find Sally rising from a chair to greet him. She was alone, he noticed with gratification. "Sal'lee, is your day good?" he offered a greeting.

"Yes," she replied, "Is yours?"

"Sei! Very good when I can have lunch with you." He looked down immediately, unnerved by the boldness of his words. Then, he quickly pulled out her tall dining chair as he had seen his Elder do and offered her an arm to assist in the climb to the seat.

"Wine?" he asked.

"No thank you, Sig-dan. Not at lunch. I still have much to do today. But I thought we could talk over lunch."

The Hunter caught the seriousness of her tone, "Is some thing wrong?"

"Yes. I nope not, but I fear yes. Fill up your plate and you eat while I tell you what's going on." The young Hunter obeyed, gladly snatching up handfuls of glistening raw flesh. As he shoveled in the meat, Sally talked.

"Ulfr is returning this evening with another Ancient. That is not a problem. We will do the intake as usual. But, my superiors want Paul to join all of us for dinner this evening and take pictures of us dining together. What is your opinion of this idea?"

Sig'dan stopped shoveling and wiped his talons on a towel. "Paul will bear no scent?"

"He will not. Just as in the kehrite."

"But I caught scent, Sal'lee! Just small scent. But there." Sig'dan was very earnest. "I did nothing. Ulfr not do the same."

"Shit!" was her reply and then she talked to herself. "He'll have to spend the rest of the afternoon bathing. And then bathe in the anti-scent spray." Looking up to Sig'dan she questioned further, "And if he has no scent at all – will Ulfr or anyone else in the crew try to kill him?"

Sig'dan was amused, "Will he challenge any of them?"

"Of course not," Sally snorted back. "But I don't want him killed over some stupid insult he's had no idea he's made!"

Sig'dan nodded. "He should be quiet then. Not talk unless Ulfr ask him."

"What will Ulfr ask him?"

"Do not know," the Hunter replied honestly. "But I can speak to him. Ask him not to kill Paul. Ask him to…not see if rude."

"That would be just excellent, Sig-dan! I mean, I would be very honored if you spoke with Elder Ulfr regarding this. Paul is not educated in your ways. I will try and teach him, but there is so little time! Do you think Ulfr will do this?"

"Do not know. But will ask."

"Do you think Ulfr will let Paul take pictures of us?"

Sig'dan considered for a moment, "Do not know, but believe picture of you and Elder good – if Elder get one too." He stretched his upper mandibles in a sincere smile. "Sig'dan will try for you."

"Thank you, Honorable Sig-dan."

* * *

In the privacy of his quarters, Sig'dan contacted the transport ship. "Honorable Elder, I have learned that you are returning this Blue Planet evening. I await your return."

"What is your report?" Ulfr growled his reply.

"I am still working in the laboratory. No further results to report. But there is something new here."

"Go on."

"There is an ooman male here. He goes through Paya's House and takes still digital images which are to be made public to the planet's populace at some future time. He is to have the meal with us this evening with Honorable Sal'lee and he wishes to take images of us during the meal."

"Sei, I have been informed of this by the High Council and instructed to permit him."

"Sally has asked me to request that neither you nor any of the rest of the Hunt party kill him."

"Why would we want to? Is he trophy material?"

"No, he is not. He does not hunt or fight, but he does exercise for the sake of his appearance."

Ulfr's gruff laughter came back over the com. "And how do you know this?"

"I asked him. Then I showed him a few things."

Ulfr's clicking chortle replied and Sig'dan went on, "Elder, I must tell you that this ooman male is Sally's friend."

"What kind of friend?"

"I am not certain, but I did question him and he told me that they had participated in a ritual together."

"What kind of ritual?"

"If I understand this correctly, I believe that together they urinated on dried fruit."

"What? What exactly did the ooman say to you?"

"He told me that they went on a date."

"Your report is noted," came the gruff voice. "I will be in your presence shortly."

The com cut out and Ulfr bent his face down to rest on his arms which were crossed over his station in front of his pilot's seat. Laughing low, his lock beads rattled and his shoulders shook from it. His brother still had much to learn regarding the nuisances of this particular ooman language.

So Sally had a male friend there who was taking pictures. A close male friend. Someone she had dated. He did not intimately know about dating customs, but he had observed couples mouth-locked in the dark and watched and heard the grunts and groans of clandestine rut in the backs of land vehicles, secluded cabins and other hidden places. His crest rose as he thought of meeting a human male who had so bonded with Sally. Well, he would respect her wishes and the wishes of the High Council. Neither he nor his crew would kill the ooman – but no one had said that they couldn't have a little fun.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Clad in light hunting armor, the smoothly scaled predators moved as silently as cats from their ship through the corridor that led to the Hospitality Room. The now-familiar route was still warily scrutinized by the Hunters as their heavy bare feet padded quietly on the smooth white stone floor. All heavy metal sandals had been left behind after their first venture into the House to enjoy the Administrators food and beverage had left gouges and chinks brought up from the pristine pavers by heavy bodies bearing down through the stout footwear. So now they enjoyed bare feet just as their Forefathers had before the invention of space-faring ships. A much more comfortable state for them as it was easier to be quiet unshod. A Yautja always felt more at ease when his footfalls were made in stealth. His natural Hunter's instinct was to be concealed from potential prey and a Warrior's natural instinct was to always approach the enemy in silence. These twin factors joined comfortably in the minds of the crew who did not yet completely grasp or trust their host.

True, they were growing in their understanding of Sally. As the mission Elder, Ulfr had taken a special interest in communicating with her and creating good will. While they all respected her rank within the House humans, they most certainly did so out of the ancient teachings of respect that had been drilled into them and their ForeSires for many thousands of centuries. They were also not afraid of her. She had none of the attributes of the now extinct Yautja females whose gigantism and strength commanded at least fear, if not respect from the males who paid their seminal tribute as often as possible. Elder Ulfr set the example of treating Sally with all the honor and respect he had once showered upon the 'fairer' sex of his kind. This, and his orders, demanded the same treatment of her from all of his crew. They would have no more considered acting dishonorably toward Administrator Sally than they would have considered cutting off one of their own stoutly clawed hands.

In contrast to their respect for Sally, Elder Ulfr was their leader, captain, commander and, at least for this mission, king. His words were obeyed instantaneously without question. Not because of any traditional respect for his name or symbol of rank, but because each of his crew knew, without a shadow of doubt, that Ulfr had **earned** his position and the trust of the High Council to carry out its bidding. Earned it through proving physical and mental superiority; earned it by the sacrifice of glowing green blood. In fact, his mere existence was ample proof of his merit, as lesser Yautja had been culled from the herd early in life through the pathway of continual competition. And yet, Ulfr and his crew, along with all Hunters of Yaut, knew on some level that with the elimination of their natural females and the introduction of the modern human genome, things would somehow change.

Inside the Paya's House room set aside to entertain the Yautja who delivered the ill Ancients to safekeeping, Sally waited, trying to keep her edgy nerves confined in the corners of her mind. With her was Paul. Neither spoke to each other. Sally slowly paced the stony floor, the precise click of her sensible heels counting out long seconds, while Paul set uncomfortably on a stone bench near the fireplace and twiddled with a scrap of loose cuticle that stood up near the white half-moon of his left thumb.

"Now, let's review this once more," Sally stated. Another run-through of protocol would help the time pass, calm her nerves and perhaps give her more faith that nothing would go wrong.

"Again?" Paul started to question, but seeing the serious paleness of her face, promptly shut his mouth and nodded in affirmation.

"I will make the introductions. First to the Elder Ulfr, then his second Abbi, then Healer Myn'dill, then Kylfa and lastly Sig-dan whom you've already met. DO NOT hold eye contact with any of them – even Sig-dan. They'll take it as challenge. Simply nod, give them a brief glimpse and then keep your eyes on their mouths or something."

"I got that, Sally. Don't worry," he interrupted.

Ignoring him, she went on, "Do not ask any questions, unless one of them asks you to. Let them lead the conversation. Try to stay calm – they can smell your fear, your nerves and God knows what else.

They treat me as they would one of their own females – with great regard. So you must too, Paul. For your own safety, follow their lead! I will signal when the meal begins by beginning - before that don't touch your food or your drink! That is unless Ulfr wishes to have some drinks first – they often do some drinking and some toasting. Just follow my lead and raise your glass when I do. After a toast, you'll need to drink the entire glass – just like they do – it's manly or something. So, I've given you a special glass here Paul with a thick bottom. Don't make that face – there's no way you'll out-drink even the smallest of them.

Other than that, I don't know what to tell you. Ulfr's here early and he wants to meet you. He's sworn to me that you'll be safe and I trust his word. So other than that and my advice – you're on your own, Paul. Just be careful, okay? They have taken human skulls, spines and skins you know?"

"Yeah. I know," he said dryly, running a hand over the microstubble of his chin, "You're a real confidence builder."

"Sorry. I'm just…worried about this. I've worked long and hard to obtain what we've achieved here and I don't want it screwed up."

"I…I appreciate your concern. It's not my intention to screw things up. I'll be careful, it'll be okay. Okay?"

"I'm sorry, Paul. It's not just that you might do something by accident that might cause a difficulty. You're smart, you'll assess what's going on. I'm worried, maybe more, about what they'll do. I can't control them." Her forehead was a staff of worry lines, but a small smile formed on her lips. Just then, a large single thunk was heard on the door.

"It's them," she whispered. "Come on, stay respectfully behind me."

She led Paul to the massive door and flicked a switch. The huge metal barricade unlocked and slid open, revealing a living mountain of Yautja flesh standing expectantly. Paul's mind was immediately confronted with the idea of a living forest of tree trunks covered in smoothly scaled bark – all in varying values of dark greenish brown.

"Welcome, Elder Ulfr!" Sally's voice chimed at them. "Welcome to you and your honorable crew. Please enter and be seated at my table."

"We are honored," the great tree at the head of the formation responded formally, placing a fisted paw the size of a large cantaloupe over his heart. He gave a small dip with his head and Sally responded with a nod. Then, with one eyebrow arched, she looked commandingly at Paul who dutifully kept behind her as she stepped aside to permit the aliens to enter.

As for Paul, he was grateful to have nothing to say at this exact moment. It had been an impressive experience to meet Sig'dan who, although he was a marked adult, was a true junior in this league. The armada made from five Yautja Hunters now sailed through the doorway only to split up and make their way to, what Paul assumed, were previously arranged places. He stood back as the largest Hunter, the one who'd been in the lead and the one he knew must be the Elder, extended one monstrous arm to assist Sally up the steps of her high chair and then took a seat beside her. The one who must be the second-in-command took his place directly on her other side and the others filled in around the circle, leaving one bare place directly opposite and farthest away from the Paya's House Matriarch. He found Sally staring at him and then she gave a directing nod. Quickly he moved to take his place between the smallest of the alien yachts, one of whom he believed to be Sig'dan. Neither gave him as much as a glance. Unused to their appearance, they all lookeded quite similar to inexperienced Paul. _Perhaps_, he wondered, _I must be introduced to the higher ranking ones before Sig-dan can speak to me in front of the others. _The man's eyes searched the circle, mindful to not look into anyone's gaze.

Obviously, he had been given the lowest place in the ranking to sit. He should have expected that, he realized. While it was humiliating, he forbade himself to consider it further, wary of what his scent might reveal. With some discomfort, he saw Sally sandwiched between the two colossal ranking males and grasped that if this were a more natural situation, he would never stand a chance of wooing her. She would belong to one of the living mountains of muscle that sat defensively on each side of her. _They do seem to be protective of her. Defending her against what? These lower ranking males? _He glanced at the remaining trio of Hunters, wondering if they, especially the smallest two, were the equivalent of extraordinarily horny teenagers who needed to be watched by their guardians.

He felt so very small. Smaller even then when he'd met Sig'dan and, uncomfortable with it, he tried to distract himself. _If only their tech wasn't so good – far better than ours. We couldn't win against them in physical strength. Our only salvation might have been our weaponry…which is…primitive compared to their blasters. Their strength and, I must admit, skills - now that I've seen Sig'dan in action – they can just fight better than we can. We lost before we ever tried to fight them. _A certain sense of defeat and sadness overcame him just as Paul realized that Ulfr was staring at him. Fighting down panic, he quickly averted his eyes and took several deep breaths as Sally had taught him to calm himself.

Then he heard the deep rolling gravel basso of the Elder's voice. "Honorable Matriarch, may I pour you a drink?"

She bobbed her head and received a smoothly tilted bottle of red wine tipped to fill her clear stemmed glass. She nodded again to the Yautja and he growled off something to his crew. Immediately Sig'dan went to a sidebar and retrieved a large square bottle of pale amber to pour for the crew, highest rank first. Rounding the circle, he eventually served everyone and Paul found himself with his heavy bottomed glass full of something. It swirled around the inside smoothly as he toyed with his drink and pensively glanced about for any cue as to would happen next, he dared not even lift the dram for an identifying sniff.

Akin to the groan of an earthquake starting, Ulfr raised his drink and deeply gruffed a few words. Everyone, including Sally, joined the salute, so Paul was quick to lift his glass. After the Elder's last raw consonant echoed through the room, all the glasses were spilled into the opening maws, whose foreign feelers grasped vainly at the smooth sides. Paul wrenched his eyes from the clawing and downed his own quaff of what turned out to be respectable Scotch. In fact, it was a single malt he had introduced to Sally several years ago. Curious that she thought it Yautja-worthy, he set his emptied beaker on the table top and waited. He didn't have to wait long.

With slightly elevated scaley unibrow, Ulfr was looking at Sally and softly rumbling something too low for him to hear. She nodded and then spoke to Paul, "Please rise Honorable Paul." Getting to his feet as quickly and with as much dignity as he could muster, he gave Sally a reciprocal nod hoping it was the polite and respectful thing to do.

"I wish to present Honorable Paul to you, Honorable Elder Ulfr. He is here as my guest and because you wished to meet him. His mission is to document what Paya's House provides for your most Honorable Ancients, so that all people of Earth may appreciate what is done here."

Ulfr suppressed a snort. _So that all oomans will be able to see that we too grow old and feeble and…vulnerable! _With a slight cough to clear his throat of sarcasm, he nodded in ritual and stepped in for his part of the introductions.

"Honorable Paul, guest of Honorable Matriarch Sal'lee, this is my second, Honorable Ab'bi, my Healer, Honorable Myn'dill, Honorable Hunter Kylfa and Honorable Hunter Sig'dan. Each Yautja regarded him in turn as they were introduced and Paul found himself newly alive in the room. Instead of overlooking his presence, the Hunters were now openly curious about him.

Questions flew at him from only Ulfr at first. What was his impression of Paya's House, of how the Ancients lived there and of the Ancients themselves? After a time, more questions were added by the rest of the crew, again from the highest ranking first. Thoughtfully, carefully, Paul answered each one as honestly and calmly as possible, always taking time to consider before he spoke. And equally as patient, the Hunters waited for him to answer. There was no hurrying or rushing as the Yautja respectfully gave him time to consider his words. _An amazing contrast to the grilling I will surely get from House security once I am finished here, _he realized.

Ulfr found himself the recipient of small but direct answers and in growing appreciation for this ooman male who took time to consider his response before speaking. Not too much time, but just a bit to properly frame the words. In the past, on the rare occasions that he had bothered to question his prey, they had usually responded by urinating or shitting on themselves and then bursting forth in either wailing or nonstop babble. _Of course, I am certain that Sal'lee has advised him. What IS the nature of their relationship? I am only curious, of course._

After a time, the questions died down and the food was served. Paul struggled to keep nonchalantly eating his steak as he ventured side glances at the Hunters, bolting down large quantities of raw meat. And of course, the Scotch kept coming. Each time his glass was emptied, it was soon replenished by the watchful Sig'dan, whose job it seemed was to keep everyone's glass filled, except Sally's, as her glass was being vigilantly tended by Ulfr. As his gut warmed from the drink, Paul was glad for the thick clear bottom that rationed his portion and amazed that Sally was keeping up with the crew. Her wine glass was small, he noted, but not tiny and it was getting refilled at a steady rate. Paul squashed down the feelings of dislike beginning to grow within as he again observed Ulfr carefully pouring the wine and a small chuckle seeming to pass between the two.

As soon as the meal was finished, the contented ambiance furthered with periodic Yautja belches and the muffled burbles of digestion. Ab'bi told a small tale in Yautja while Ulfr softly gruffed the interpretation to Sally. Apparently it was a humorous story, as Sally grinned and everyone else erupted in the strange clicking and low chortles that signified Hunter laughter. Paul noted, disagreeably, that no one had bothered interpreting for him.

The relaxation was suddenly broken by a signal from Sally's wrist com. Punching at it, she excused herself from the table and went some distance away to converse. Sig'dan said something to Ulfr and apparently obtained permission to tell Paul Ab'bi's words in English.

"Honorable Ab'bi told of a time when he was new Hunter. He came to Earth to hunt with brother. They were in the place you call 'Af-ree-ka' and walking across big plain on the trail of a…a famlee of what you call 'Ly-un'. They passed lake and did not see that Ly-uns had come back on trail and were hiding near lake. Ab'bi and brother walk right past prey to the end of the trail before…before they know what had happened. By then, Ly-uns had run away. Ab'bi and brother see heat track of Ly-uns that tell all story. Honorable Ab'bi and his brother still salute Ly-uns."

Paul grinned in appreciation of the story, while wondering how many of those around him had hunted on Earth and if any had hunted humans.

Just at the end of Sig'dan's story, Sally returned to the table, her face in a frown. "I apologize to all of you. I need to leave and take care of a situation. It shouldn't take long. Please continue enjoying yourselves."

Tension placed an icy grip around Paul as he realized he was about to be left alone with the Yautja. "Uh, Honorable Sally, is there anything I can do to help?" he asked hopefully.

"Thank you Paul, but no. I'll be right back. I'm sure that the Hunters have many more stories to share with you." She looked expectantly at Ulfr.

"Sei, Honorable Matriarch. We will continue to enjoy. There is still much to tell Honorable Paul. Do not be concerned for him. He is under my protection."

"Fine then, I'll be back before you know it," she gave them all her best smile and then left. Five pair of deeply set Yautja eyes turned back to stare at Paul.

"Honorable Paul," Ulfr asked abruptly, sending Paul's more shallowly set eyes shooting up to look directly into the Elder's own. Ignoring the man's impudence with a tolerance bathed in whiskey, the Elder went on, "Have you ever been inside a Yautja ship?"

"No," Paul shook his head, breath suddenly caught mid-throat.

"May I offer my own for you to tour?" came the most courteous response.

Made braver with alcohol, Paul replied, "I would be most honored to tour your ship," but then added, "If, a, you think the Matriarch approves."

"Of course," Ulfr agreed and drew his upper mandibles back in a large smile. "I am sure that she would." He bowed his great head, allowing long black locks to slide and clink their rings of honor softly.

Before Paul could take another fortifying sip, he found himself marching out of the building onto a tarmac. He felt like a toddler surrounded by adults as his eyes seemed to hit somewhere between the giant's waists and where he assumed their heart might have been. Abruptly, the formation halted and Paul nearly stumbled face-first into the rear end of a loincloth. Recovering his balance and his breath while silently cursing, the bodies in front of him parted to reveal the Elder's ship and Paul inhaled a deep breath of admiration.

It was a beautiful thing. He'd only seen glimpses of them from afar or pictures in the news reports. A dark silvery hull reflected the landing bay lights as well as the nearly full moon overhead and immediately filled the man's mind with a dreadful appreciation of her streamlined deadly splendor. He felt Ulfr's eyes upon him and wondered if the Elder were waiting for him to make some sort of comment. There was no time for a mind lost in wonder to compose anything elegant, so he fell back on simple honesty.

"She's, a…beautiful, Elder. Beautiful and intimidating."

Something like a guffaw came from behind him and was silenced by the powerful glance of the Elder. "You speak your mind, Honorable Paul. I appreciate that. May I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why do you speak of my vessel as female?"

"It's a human custom, in many human societies, to refer to a sea or space faring vessel as 'she'. Honestly, I don't know why. Perhaps because in former days human females occupied a lesser station in life than males – we commanded them, just as we commanded ships."

A few clicks and grunts that could only be interpreted as snickers came from overhead.

"I believe that things are different where you come from?" Paul addressed Ulfr.

"Most assuredly! The idea of commanding a female is an amazing one to us. But, my ship IS large, sleek and deadly – very much the ideal of one of our females." A sudden sadness came into his voice, "It is a worthy tribute."

Quickly Paul sought to steer the subject, "Does she have a name, Honorable Elder?"

"Sei, in your language her name is best said as 'Bringer of Night'. This is a hunting ship. I did not name it. It belonged to my Sire and he gifted it to me. He hunts those who break our laws and brings them justice."

"Impressive," was all Paul could think of to say.

"Sei," Ulfr returned, most gravely. "My Sire is not to be trifled with. Come now, let us board and you will see the inside!"

Once inside the craft, Paul tried to adjust to seeing in the dimmer misty light as he struggled to focus on everything all at once. An ethereal haze spread out over the deck and billowed against his calves. His feet had vanished beneath the fog and only reminded him of their existence by the thud they made against the metal plating. Glistening walls surrounded him, every millimeter sculpted or carved into patterns or figures. Hunters stalking, Hunters battling great fangs, claws, tentacles and beaks – every form of monstrous prey was depicted on the ship's slightly curving walls. Looking up higher, he saw great torches flickering. They cast an eerie scene of light and shadow that made the bronze colored frescos almost appear to move. _They must be artificial,_ his calm part reasoned. _And just made to look like torchlight. Ha! Mood lighting on an alien spaceship!_

He moved along the corridors with the Yautja until they came to a large room with tables and benches. "Come with me," Ulfr ordered. "They will stay and top off the excellent meal Honorable Sal'lee provided with our own alcohol. Come. I wish to show you something."

Obediently, as if he had any choice about it, Paul followed the Elder down another hallway and through the small whoosh of a sliding panel into another room. Saying nothing, the senior Yautja was content to let the human take in his surroundings.

Doing his best poker face, said human was forcibly holding his jaw closed as he studied the trophies that cascaded down the wall from ceiling to floor and perched on various pedestals in the room. Most were skulls. Most he did not recognize. All were impressive with various armaments welded by their previous owners. There were dagger-like horns, great serrated beaks, hooking scythes of fangs and even staggered sharp fins that looked like sharpened steel.

"You killed all these?" He tried to sound matter-of-fact, like he was discussing golf scores with the guys.

"Sei, yes," came the proud reply.

"Very impressive." Paul nodded as he continued his survey. To one side were multiple elongated black heads. Not really like skulls, he decided. "Exoskeletons?" he murmured softly to himself.

"Yes," was the unexpected reply, nearly startling him. He had forgotten how sharp Yautja hearing was. The voice continued, "They are what we call Kainde Amedha or Hard Meat in your tongue. Very formidable creatures and our prey of choice for achieving the status of Hunter. The sharp blade you see is the tail point."

Ulfr had not invited him to touch, so Paul dutifully kept his hands at his sides, even though he was imagining what the black smoothness felt like. Continuing to walk around the room, he was suddenly confronted by a bevy of smooth white bulbous tops. The bare shining skulls of perhaps twenty people grinned at him perched on immaculate spinal columns draped from metal rods. A few skulls rolled on their own, resting on pristine clear pillars. Not a speck of dust ruined the grotesque display. As he stared at his long dead brothers, an involuntary shiver ran through his body.

"This…disturbs you?" Ulfr asked with a slight bit of tact. A huge undertaking for him.

"Truthfully," Paul turned to face the killer of men, "it's not my favorite part of the exhibit."

Side-jaws wavered for a moment as the Elder's brow furrowed. It took great effort to translate the ugly sounds into Yautja.

Meanwhile, Paul held his breath. Had he offended the Hunter? _Well what the hell was I supposed to say? 'Nice heads. Musta been a good year for people.' _

Ulfr's waver turned into a wide-stretched smile accompanied by several clicks of amusement. "No, I did not think it would be. Do you have questions?"

"Several hundred, maybe. Uh, that was an exaggeration," he explained, catching the light of surprise in the alien's deep set eyes. "Your other skulls appear to be from very dangerous beasts. Why do you hunt us? I mean, we don't seem so dangerous by comparison."

"Without your weapons – you are not dangerous at all," the Elder answered bluntly. "It is your development of weaponry, along with your intelligence that makes you good hunting. But those days are past. We do not hunt oomans on Earth any longer. You have other things of value to us."

Ignoring the obvious bait, Paul asked another question, "What is your name for us?"

Grinning rather wickedly, Ulfr replied, "Pyode Amedha – soft meat."

"Good God! Do…or did you eat us?" Paul blurted out, a cold blade felt stuck in his stomach.

"Sometimes. The name does not come from that. It comes from the relationship oomans have to Kainde Amedha."

"Soft Meat, Hard Meat. I don't see it. Please explain."

"The Hard Meat requires a host to incubate, a somewhat soft bodied host that they can enter and then leave. In times long past, oomans worshiped us and sacrificed their own to be food and cocoons for the prey of our hunt. We valued, protected and even taught you during that time. And later, we paid for it. You developed technologies and turned on us. It was then that we discovered what excellent prey you are."

Paul felt the blade twist through his innards as the primal fear of the hunted raced up his spine and tried to blind his brain. _Flee!_ It commanded. _Run for your life! Death is upon you!_ Stubbornly, the man took a deep breath and succeeded in dulling the ancient voice. Still, a slight hand tremor, along with the stench of fright betrayed him.

"The old days are to be missed," the enormous Yautja said with longing in his voice even as he ran a hand fondly over one of the polished skulls. "This one was a particular challenge. I tracked him for three days until I cornered him in a steep ravine. There he turned and fought bravely. First with his pistol and then with his knife. His droplets of steel were buried in my stomach and forced me through a field healing I will not forget!"

Paul's face blanched, causing Ulfr to pause but then he went on.

"Sei, he was brave until the end. He fought face to face and did not try to run away or beg for his life. So I have honored him by placing his bones with my trophies. It is a great tribute to him, do you not think so?"

He became silent, regarding the face of his human guest, and waited. The man was definitely fearful and wary. What would he do? It was a sublime moment and Ulfr savored every scent and nuance of it.

The surge of fear turned to adrenaline as Paul whirled from looking at the skull to looking at Ulfr. "If your purpose in asking me here was to frighten me…congratulations, you've done a fine job." He glared up at the Yautja and although betrayed by a tremor, he held his ground.

Ulfr contemplated the unexpected turn of question. Honorable Sal'lee's friend was brave. Weak, as all ooman's but very brave to say these words. Was he honorable enough to add to his trophies? And how would he ever explain it to Sal'lee? She would no doubt be furious and it would seriously damage their relationship. An audible sighing sound left the Elder's maw and he clacked his tusks meaningfully. "May I ask you a question, Honorable Paul?"

"Yes," he said slowly with some relief. So it was to be a question rather than a knife. Things were looking up.

"What is the nature of your relationship with Honorable Sal'lee?"

Of all the things the Yautja could have asked, this was never one he had anticipated. Why the hell would the alien have questions about him and Sally?

"Why do you want to know?" he responded without asking permission to question.

Overlooking the lack of manners, Ulfr answered, "I am learning about ooman relationships. I am curious."

"Well, we had a thing…once."

Confusion overcame the Elder's face.

"I mean we had a romantic relationship – once. But we don't any longer. Understand?"

"Romantic. You mated, then?"

Paul surprised himself by blushing, "Well, yea. That's what people do, you know."

"I know," nodded the Elder, seriously. "I have seen it."

"WHAT? You've watched people mating?"

"Sei. I have come upon pairs on occasion. It was…interesting to watch."

"Did you kill them afterwards?"

Ulfr's eyes went wide, "No! I was not hunting them. It would have not been…honorable. I carefully select my quarry and then pursue them. It would be foolish to abandon my selected prey to hunt another creature that just happened to cross my path. And I do not kill females!"

Silence ensued as Ulfr continued to stare sternly at Paul, who was digesting the Hunter's short speech.

"So, I guess Sally's safe then?" he nervously half-joked.

"Honorable Sal'lee is not prey! I would defend her against any Bad Blood who tried!" Ulfr said vehemently.

"That just leaves me then, I guess." Paul weakly offered.

Choking grunts erupted from Ulfr, "You are the Matriarch's friend and besides..," he hesitated and would have looked down his nose had he one, "…I would never select you as prey."

"Guess I need to work out more, eh?"

"That might help," the Yautja replied most seriously. "Does Sal'lee have a mate?"

"Not that I know of. Why are you so interested, anyway? You aren't thinking of kidnapping her are you?" Horror filled Paul's heart.

"No. She is the Matriarch! I am not a Bad Blood! Do you accuse me?" The Elder's crest rose as did the timbre of his voice. Paul suddenly felt himself upon extremely dangerous ground.

"No. I do not accuse you of being…a Bad Blood, Honorable Elder Ulfr. But I know that some women are taken away. The story is that there are no women of your kind anymore and that somehow you are able to father children with human women."

The crest slowly backed down. "The story is true."

Paul thought the imposing alien actually looked sad for a moment, sort of downcast with his eyes and slightly clumped at the shoulders. But the illusion quickly vanished and the Elder once again stood tall and imposing before him. Ulfr's eyes glared into his as if daring him to disagree with his right to human women. Abruptly, Paul spoke, "Well, I guess you don't really have any alternative do you? I mean if you want to continue your race – or some dilution of it…" His voice trailed off as he tottered on the edge of this unknown and possibly fatal territory.

"There is no path but this one. Our offspring could be created in artificial wombs but they would still need females to care for them. To raise them until they are taken to be trained. Come, ooman, the Matriarch will return to find that we have abandoned her hospitality." The Elder waited for man to precede him, even as Paul felt shooed from the room as though he were a small child. Obediently, he headed for the exit and heard the low consonants behind him, "You are somewhat fearless, ooman…that is worth something. Were circumstances different, I would reconsider taking your skull as a trophy."

Paul quickened his steps through the ever present fog.


End file.
